


Critical Strike

by stifledlaughter



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alternate Universe, Comedy, Deep Dish Nine, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-09-29
Packaged: 2018-02-19 06:35:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2378429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stifledlaughter/pseuds/stifledlaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“So from what I can understand, my dear Julian, is that this… LAN party, is a gathering to play video games together that you could just as easily play apart?”<br/>***<br/>Deep Dish Nine: Julian takes Garak to a LAN party held by his fellow students.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Critical Strike

The leaves crunched underfoot as the pair headed down the long row of townhouses. Russet and titian leaves scattered in the breeze, swirling up into dust devils of warm colors between the legs of two men arm and arm, walking in sync down the bumpy brick sidewalk.

“So from what I can understand, my dear Julian, is that this… LAN party, is a gathering to play video games together that you could just as easily play apart?”

“It’s… yes, but it’s the camaraderie of the whole thing. Brothers in arms- sisters, too, actually, now that I think about it, with Mara and Katja and the others in the group now- but yes! Winning victories side by side-“

“Yet, you play against each other, as you told me-“

“Well that’s half the fun, beating your mate and seeing his face from across the room, it’s glorious I tell you-“ Julian paused and waved his hands in the air, envisioning himself in fierce battle. “Oh, it’s the best!”

Garak sighed and shook his head at the excited frenzy that Julian was bringing himself to. Seeing the pink glow of his friend’s cheeks and the face-splitting smile in the cool autumn air reminded him of how happy Julian was and maybe, somewhere deep down, Garak thought to himself, that he was hopefully, maybe, partially, a tiny bit, responsible for that?

Even though he detested the cold, and even more so than the cold, detested group gatherings of people he did not know for purposes he wasn’t entirely interested in, he would have walked across the bridge outside of Alpha City and back just to spend another evening on Julian’s arm. To think that he could have brought his friend happiness by attending this event was completely worth any of his discomforts.

“I don’t know what we’ll be playing exactly, but if you watch me play a game or two, you can pick it up very quickly,” chattered on Julian as he steered them towards a white-bricked rowhouse on the corner of the street. Overgrown bushes poured over the sidewalks, and already they could hear shouts and laughter from inside. The front door swung open and several young men stumbled out, one of them shouting “Oohhh I got you SO BAD! You should have seen your face when I sniped you-“

“Only cowards snipe!” retorted another, slightly taller than the other and now turning towards Julian and Garak, “And I had way more kills than any of you all- oh, Julian! You made it! Sweet!”

Julian let go of Garak’s arm and said “My god, Ethan, did Peter get you again? You always do the same thing- at least try to avoid running out in the thick of it all sometimes!”

“You get way less kills that way,” muttered Ethan, who then turned to Garak. “Hey, is this- uh, Gary?”

“Garak,” corrected Julian, pulling him towards the group of three boys- no, _men,_ he supposed, remembering how Julian had been telling him that all of them were in graduate school, some in the medical school, others in the school of arts and humanities. “Garak, this is Peter, Ethan, and Markus. Everyone, Garak!”

Garak smiled his “customer service” smile and nodded at them. Already, in the moment of meeting new people, Garak’s mind began to do what it did best: assess threats. Peter and Ethan were easy reads- harmless and jovial, the best types to deal with, as they presented little threat. Markus, slightly smaller than the other two, seemed to be looking Garak up and down, but in a more curious than threatening way. Notable for his interest, but not at all a threat. Garak relaxed a hair, which, considering his nature, was quite a bit.

_There are no threats here,_ whispered a voice in the back of his head. _Enjoy yourself with Julian tonight. You are fine._ He gave another smile and said, “I take it that you all are enjoying your games?”

“We’re playing Halo now, if you’re interested,” offered Peter, who gestured inside. “Beer and soda in the fridge, hot wings on the stove. Help yourselves!”

They shuffled inside, and Garak took a moment to hold Julian’s arm steady as the eager med student kicked off his Converse shoes and looked around, excited. “I haven’t done this for ages, I’m so glad midterms are over and I can relax- well, for a bit anyway. Oh! Ted! Jessie!” and the introductions began again, Garak following Julian like a puppy as the dozen or so introductions began. Some correctly guessed who he must be, and others gave a slight eyebrow raise but said nothing as Julian introduced “My boyfriend, Garak, he owns the tailor shop next to Deep Dish Nine”.

The introductions tapered off after a few minutes, and while Julian sought out a place for them to sit, Garak distracted himself by observing was being played. It seemed to be a cooperative war game, with some of the players on couches, others on the floor, all focusing on different corners of the screen. Some were swearing, and others were deadly silent. There was the constant sound of firing and explosions, punctured by gleeful shouts and mournful cries.

“Let me show you how to play, Garak, and you can jump right into the fun,” said Julian excitedly as he led Garak to an empty chair. “Here’s a controller- this is the trigger to shoot- here is how you move-“

“I can pick it up, my dear,” murmured Garak as he watched the other players’ fingers move over the controllers. He still felt off in this environment, but he wanted Julian to have a good time and talk with his friends while he adjusted. “Perhaps you can get a glass of water for me?”

“Sure thing!” Julian scampered off, the holes in the heel of his sock glaringly evident as he skittered onto the tile floor of the kitchen. Garak winced and reminded himself to go through Julian’s sock drawer again to fix them. Julian knew that he did it, and didn’t like that Garak was spending more time working with a sewing needle outside of work than necessary, but couldn’t afford to buy new ones. He let it happen, and Garak was secretly pleased to do something to make up for the joy that Julian brought him.

“The living room is starting a new game!” called out one of the players, and someone next to Garak (Jessie, if he remembered correctly from the deluge of introductions) nudged him and said “You’re with us, on team Lubak. You’re on screen number ten.”

 Garak looked through the different divided screens on the TV and found his. “And the goal of this particular game is?”

“Capture the flag – get the flag from the enemy base and bring it back to ours.” With that, the game loaded and Garak set off, immediately heading for the shadows to wait and observe what the others players did.

\---

“You survived that anatomy exam huh? It was an absolute massacre this semester. God, and I thought Professor Crusher was rough last year! Ethan clapped Julian on the back, the beer can in his other hand slopping a bit onto the grass near the patio. “You watch, you’ll get top marks again, like you always do.”

“Well, you know, I just try my best,” said Julian, who went silent for a brief second, and then turned back to Ethan, all smiles again. “But you! Tell me about you and Mara. How is that going?” He had dropped off Garak’s water and seen that his boyfriend was settled in and playing with intense focus. He decided to let the tailor be alone for a bit while he caught up with his friend who had been abroad for the past year.

There was a small backyard behind the house, perfect for lounging in between games. In the deck was the average set of college patio furniture- slightly rusty white beach chairs, a wobbly circle table with a weirdly large paint chip stripped out of the middle, and a broken table umbrella leaning against the fence. They settled into the chairs, taking a drink from their beers and looking around.

“Well, Mara and I moved in together in August, and things are going great. Did you hear? We got a cat!”

“We haven’t talked since you got back from Botswana in June,” remarked Julian, smiling. “So I guess I didn’t hear! That’s great, Ethan, just great.” The wind wrestled leaves from the trees, sending them spiraling down to land on the table, shifting it as the legs tilted back and forth in the breeze.

“And you, you’ve got a boyfriend now.” Ethan looked down at his drink, avoiding eye contact with Julian. The tone changed slightly- not accusatory, but definitely questioning. “I didn’t know you were… well, you never really gave that impression, Julian.”

“Ah, well… it’s…” Julian knew that this conversation would come up- he and Garak had been “friends” and then “really good friends” and then… incredibly good friends for a while. When “boyfriend” slipped out of Julian’s mouth one night working late at Deep Dish Nine (in front of Quark and Jadzia, no less), he knew that this conversation would happen, and had been preparing it in his head.

That didn’t mean, however, that he was actually prepared to have it.

“Look, I’m not judging or anything. I support you and… all of that.” The scattering of leaves on the patio became louder than his voice, and Ethan cleared his throat and raised it a little, now making eye contact. “I just want to know… do you know what you’re doing with him?”

The wind blew the leaves in circles around the deck even harder as Julian looked down into his beer and thought of how to answer.

\--

“Okay, who is Ten? Seriously!” yelled a player who threw her controller down, raging. “That guy has seven kills on me!” The sounds of explosions continued around her as she waited to respawn and, as she figured would happen, die quickly within minutes… again.

Garak had quickly adapted to the technical aspects of the game and was immediately immersed. Already he had been successful twice in bringing the flag back to base, and in other games led the team in kills. Calmly responding to inquiries that no, he had never played this game before, and no, he wasn’t interested in tournament play but that is very flattering of you to say, he only barely restrained himself from jumping when Julian tapped him on the shoulder in the middle of a particularly delicate sniping situation.

“My God Garak, are you Ten? You’ve been leading the team in kills for the past three games!”

“Natural talent, I suppose,” casually responded Garak, his eyes not off the screen as he destroyed several other players from his hiding point. His fingers moved in calculated patterns across the controller : dodge out of sight, focus on the target, destroy, assess danger in the area, and dodge again. A familiar dance that, for several moments before Julian came up to him, he was fully embracing, like an old, lethal friend.

“We’re changing games, Jessie brought the beta version of the game his cousin is working on,” called out Ethan, who had followed Julian in and started to rummage around in a backpack in the corner.

“I want to watch you play,” said Julian as Garak offered him the controller. “I completely missed it when I was out there with Ethan.”  Something crossed his face when he mentioned Ethan, but quickly disappeared – but not so quickly that it was missed by Garak. A question for later, perhaps, and he may keep a closer eye on this Ethan fellow.

“As you wish, my dear,” said Garak, who secretly was delighted at the opportunity to impress Julian and show that he was not just some old tailor with an interest in literature.

_Stop thinking that he isn’t into you. He clearly is, otherwise he wouldn’t have brought you and wouldn’t call you his boyfriend,_ snapped the voice in his head.

_We’ve been wrong before, and that led to complications, didn’t it?_ retorted the other voice that, as of late, had been shadowed by the glittery explosions of happiness created by Julian’s presence. He had tried to push that voice down, away, but it was still there, unable to be crushed, only partially obscured by the bright light Julian brought into his life.

“Garak? Are you alright? The game is starting.” Julian poked Garak’s arm, and Garak snapped out of his sinister thoughts and looked up at the concerned green eyes that looked him up and down. “Oh no, you didn’t eat the buffalo wings, did you? I forgot to warn you, they’ve been out for hours, god knows what sort of bacteria they’ve picked up-“

“No, no, dear, it’s fine,” he reassured Julian, who kept an eye on him as Garak gave him a tight smile. _I’m with Julian, and everything is fine,_ he thought, and with that turned to the screen to see-

_Cardassia._

His breath hitched in his throat.

He was standing in the very street where he had walked for years to pick up groceries on. He turned his character to the left, seeing down another street that was so familiar because he had walked it many times, and there was a door to a non-descript gray building with arches and windows and that window, the one that was shattered, he had, in that room, once… he had once… and then again, and again-

Explosions burst from the speakers as the fighting began, and Garak narrowly dodged a bullet as he dove into a corner- the one with a hidden alley that led to the building he knew best.  

Something stirred inside of him. This was his world, what he had known and lived, the one he belonged in. Everything else faded in the background, and it was as if he was alone, now climbing the hidden back staircase shrouded by bushes. Climbing to the top of the building, Garak looked over the city of Cardassia- and began to snipe.

One body- down. There was another group over there- easy pickings. He took them off, and when he saw one slip behind a building to escape the flurry of firings, he leapt down the building to seek him out. Keep close to the wall- don’t be noticed. Keep to the shadows. His training kicked in and within thirty seconds, he had taken down the escapee- and was after the others.

His face twisted into a grimace as he sought a particularly elusive foe, and nearly snarled in anger as the player continued to evade him.

He barely even noticed how he was comporting himself until he felt a hand grip his shoulder-and Garak whipped to the side, pulled out of the dream world he had fallen into, the state where nothing existed but the task at hand, to see Julian’s stunned face. “Garak, are you alright? You look awful!”

He was showing his emotions clearly on his face, like a child, and Julian, the last person he wanted to lose control in front of, had seen it all.

Dropping the control, Garak rushed outside, his face burning and angry. How could he let himself get so – emotional! So caught up in the game, his face likely giving away every single thing he was thinking. Every cruel, grotesque, dangerous, simply _evil_ thought he had accepted back into his mind with open arms, feeling the thrill of the chase and of the hunt.

And if Julian saw his face… and how he reacted, gunning down the targets, one by one, picking them off, as if he was born to do it... _My god, will he ever let me hold him again?_

“Garak! Wait!” He heard Julian slam open the screen door, letting it clatter behind him as he stumbled, a mess of limbs and messy hair and that horrible tacky striped white, green, red, and blue sweater and _this is it, he’ll tell me that he can’t do this anymore, he can’t be with a monster-_

_“_ I should have known,” Julian panted, looking up at Garak with shock on his face, his hands planted on his ripped jeans. Those hands, training to heal people one day, and here Garak stood, with his hands positively dripping blood in his mind and _you knew this would end soon, it was only a matter of time before your mask ripped in half and revealed what you’ve been hiding._

“My god Garak… How could I have been so stupid?” Garak looked into those juniper eyes, his heart sinking, crushing itself like a collapsing black hole.

“My dear, let me explain…“ _Explain what? What you’ve done? What you can’t forget?_ Was this all to end here, in the backyard of a townhouse, with the cold autumn air chilling his hands and face and he was aching, just aching to touch Julian one last time before the inevitable?

“No, no. I understand now. Why didn’t you tell me? I’m so foolish, letting you get hurt like this-“

_What?_

“I knew that Cardassia was a level in that beta game, and I let you play it before seeing if that was the one we were starting on- I’m an _idiot,_ and I just cocked up this evening when I was supposed to make it fun for you-“

The black hole in Garak’s chest stopped collapsing and started expanding again, physics be damned. The air seemed less cold and Garak took a hesitant step forward, confused beyond all belief but relieved that Julian seemed angry not at him but at… himself? He steadied himself on the rickety white table, being careful not to tip the fragile furniture over as Julian babbled on beautifully.

“Imagine, me letting you see Cardassia, walk through it, mocking your pain when you’ve told me you miss it and can’t go back, and that’s why you looked so dark and distant and angry, you were missing Cardassia- can you forgive me? I’m a complete fool.” With that, he grabbed Garak’s hands off of the table and pulled him close in a tight hug.

“It’s… quite alright, Julian,” stammered out Garak, uncharacteristically tongue-tied as this sudden twist of events unfolded. “I have enjoyed this evening, really. That… that was nothing, my dear. A ripple in an otherwise smooth pond, if I may be poetic.” Yes, yes, he was getting back to his old self. The mask was still whole. He had not been discovered.

Julian buried his face into Garak’s neck and kissed it, causing the older man to shiver yet be sparked with warmth at the same time. Julian moved up kiss him, his lips warm against Garak’s, hands clenching the tailor’s waist and sliding down, inappropriate for the setting but after the chaos of the past few minutes, welcome. Heat, his warmth, his Julian wrapped around him, in ripped jeans and holey socks, tickling his nose with shocks of curly hair and _he is still in my arms, if there are Prophets they are giving favors to the wrong man._ He almost pitied the man for whom the favors were meant, but didn’t feel so much pity as to offer his fortune to anyone else.

 “I’m glad I didn’t ruin your evening. I’ll be more careful next time. I wouldn’t want to make you upset or anything,” babbled on Julian again, still pressing himself against Garak. The sun was setting and cast a golden glow on the pair, meshing beautifully with Julian’s tawny skin and casting a pleasant glow on Garak’s raincloud-pale skin. Garak sighed and pulled Julian even closer, feeling the rise and fall of his chest slow as they held each other.

A victorious clatter of shouts burst out of the house that broke the moment, and they both startled, jumping back a bit. Julian laughed and cast a look at the living room through the window. “Looks like that game ended. Do you want to go back inside?”

“I’ll stay out here for a moment. But you go in, I will join you shortly.” Garak needed a moment to recover and process what just happened, and couldn’t do so distracted by Julian’s touches.

“Okay, just don’t stay out too long. It’ll get way colder once the sun goes down, and I want you to stay warm.” With a smile Julian kissed Garak and headed back inside as someone else – Marcus, Garak remembered -- came out.

Garak settled his hands back on the table and looked down at it, ignoring Marcus’s presence. He seemed like an introvert as well, and perhaps just wanted some fresh air and quiet.

“I can read the notes you know,” said Marcus suddenly in perfect, accentless Kardasi. Garak jerked his head up, and saw Marcus looking directly at him- not hostile, but with curiosity, as he had when they had first arrived at the rowhouse. “But I know that Julian hasn’t had the time lately to translate them all. And he won’t ask me to translate them, even though he knows I speak Kardasi. He wants to figure it out for himself.”

“You speak Kardasi,” stated Garak in the same language evenly, not responding to the question.

“My mother is a professor of linguistics at the university. She moved us to Cardassia City when I was seven to do her Ph.D. I still practice it now and then with her to keep my skills up.” The unanswered question lingered in the air. The sun was halfway set now, casting long shadows over the deck and turning the white tables and chairs into a sandstone orange. Briefly, Garak’s mind flashed to towering spires of the Cardassia City University that one could stand in and see the surrounding deserts for miles. More than once he had stood up there alone, wishing for someone to stand with him there and see the beauty that was the miles of shifting sand dunes.

“He doesn’t know what the latest ones say. I can tell because he’ll set them down like he would any other bookmark. He thinks it’s maybe a reminder to pick up the dry cleaning, or a quote from the books you lend him.” Garak still remained silent, gathering this information and wondering why Marcus cared at all.

Perhaps a bit of probing was in order. “Are you two close friends?”

Marcus shrugged. “Not particularly. We’ve had several classes together, and spent more than a few nights reviewing for a test into the morning hours, but I couldn’t tell you his parents’ names or where he went to high school. But I have noticed a change in his mood since he met you, and I don’t think he knows at all what’s on those notes. If he did, I think he wouldn’t have asked us to not scare you off tonight.”

“Did he then?” Garak’s heart sped up as he tried to remain aloof and calm. The thought of Julian trying to impress him simultaneously warmed and chilled him. Julian didn’t need to impress Garak- he was perfect the way he was. How did he not know?

“He was convinced that you would find the LAN party juvenile and sophomoric, but wanted you to see more of him than just the pizza parlor and school. He thought that tonight might be the make or break it- if you would find him worth your time and take him, video games and all.” Marcus started to scratch at the paint in the old, rusted table, and Garak briefly wondered if there wasn’t lead in there- trust his mind to seek out threats to disarm he when needed to focus on his emotions.

“I haven’t told him what’s on the notes, if you’re wondering. If he knew, then he probably wouldn’t have run around tearing down the centerfold posters that Ethan puts up around the house from Playboy. And he had come over a few hours before and cleaned the kitchen, the downstairs bathroom, and vacuumed.” Marcus’s fingernail got stuck on a rather large chip of paint, and he wrestled lightly with it, flicking it away into the grass before finding another to work on. “He thinks that you’ll let him go if he is too silly or naive, and even though he doesn’t say that, he doesn’t hide his feelings very well. When you ran out of the room, you should have seen his face. He thought he had messed it up for good.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” asked Garak, his voice low as he kept an eye on the door for Julian, who was likely wondering where he was by now. They were speaking in Kardasi and Julian likely couldn’t get the gist of what they were saying, but he didn’t want to risk anything.

“Because even though I don’t know Julian terribly well, it would take a lot of stress off of him if he knew how you really felt about him. I’m not a dating expert by any means, but if he needs someone to say what needs to be said, then I’ll do it.”

Garak began to understand Marcus’ motives. “You once didn’t say the words when they needed to be said, didn’t you?”

“She’s better off now, probably.” He smiled a thin, bitter smile, still focusing on the table.  “Besides, they moved in together, they have a cat now, she’s happy. No need to ruin that.”

Garak wasn’t sure who he was talking about, but it wasn’t necessary, and, frankly, he preferred not to know. Cardassians kept to themselves and didn’t go around sharing their personal lives with complete strangers, but, then again, this stranger knew the words that Garak couldn’t say to Julian, and the words Julian couldn’t say to Garak. Perhaps Marcus was simply balancing out the scales of hidden knowledge- he and Garak were now even.

“I’m not asking you to tell him what the notes say, and I’m sure once break rolls around, he’ll translate them. But I figured I’d give you a heads up.” With that, Marcus gave a small nod to Garak, tilting his head in a Cardassian good-bye that conferred respect and understanding, and went back inside. After a few seconds, Garak followed suit, and saw Julian off in a corner, engaged in playing but casting occasional glances at the back door. When he saw Garak, he smiled and handed his controller off to someone nearby, moving around the students seated on the floor around the TVs.

“Ah, so you got to talk to Marcus! Nice fellow, isn’t he?”

Marcus was now over at the refrigerator, picking out a beer, and met eyes with Garak as he straightened up to shut the door. He gave the most imperceptible nod to anyone who wasn’t acquainted with Cardassian mannerisms- again, the nod of understanding. Garak gave an even more subtle one in response.

“Indeed,” answered Garak, reaching out to hold Julian’s hand. “By the way, we haven’t discussed _The State and the Union_ , part two yet- I assume you’ve reached what is the climax of the second act?” When in doubt of what to speak of, fall back on literature.

“In the middle of it actually- it’s quite unique, this group dynamic they’ve got going on between the three main characters, and the State seems to be more of a secondary than primary character in this novel. It’s a pleasant change, I must say.” With that, they fell into the usual conversation style, ambling over to the food table with the various chips, pretzels, and pizza (from Deep Dish Nine, of course - Garak suspected Julian had abused his discount for this). Garak hesitantly plated a slice of pizza which had grown cold, but his stomach growled and it was better than nothing. After grabbing beers from the fridge, they settled on a couch and watched the action unfold on a level of what appeared to be Andorian forest, the frostbitten trees and mountains shimmering white on all of the screens.

“You played amazingly well,” commented Julian, who slung his arm around Garak’s shoulders and settled in to the lumpy moss-colored couch. A bit of pizza sauce slopped onto the red part of Julian’s sweater, and he frowned, moving to lick it off. Watching him try to lick off the sauce in a futile attempt at cleaning, Garak felt an odd compulsion to simultaneously laugh and pin Julian down to the couch and put that tongue to better use.

But his self-control won and he settled for watching that little pink tongue work furiously at the spot. What a silly young man.

His silly young man.

“Beginner’s luck, I suppose,” Garak said, trying to find the best way to eat the pizza without causing a flood of grease to crash down on him. “Have you got around to translating those Post-Its I give you?” He took a sip of his beer and a bite of his pizza, trying to appear as if the answer wouldn’t affect him either way.

“Er- not yet, I’ve been a bit caught up in midterms. Some of the notes have me really stumped- some of the words aren’t in the basic dictionary I got from the linguistics department. And since you haven’t got one with Standard translations, I’ll have to wait until I find one with more vocabulary.” Giving up, Julian flopped back from licking his sweater and turned to Garak. “Or you could just tell me, you know.” He snaked his hand up Garak’s thigh, rubbing the fabric of the dark dress pants and sneaking a knee squeeze.

“And you know for a fact that I wouldn’t take a challenge away from you,” Garak responded, his heart speeding up at the illicit public touch. This setting made it slightly more appropriate- perhaps even tame, given what Marcus had said earlier about the Playboy centerfolds on the walls- but all the same, a private man has habits, and being felt up in public were not among them.

But if it was Julian, he was willing to let habits change.

“We’ve got Thanksgiving break in a few weeks- I can tackle them then. Marcus told me once his mom got her Ph.D in Cardassia City- maybe she has a dictionary or two lying around she can spare.” Julian gave an evil smile as he continued to move his hand in soft circles on Garak’s thigh, digging his thumb in gently and then harder. His plate lay on the couch, abandoned for higher pursuits.

“That’s terribly inappropriate in public, you know,” murmured Garak, half chastising, half egging him on. What had gotten into him? Was it the rush of endorphins that he was still coming down from after realizing that this was not the end of his relationship?

Whatever it was, he wanted more.

“You know,” whispered Julian, leaning over to Garak’s ear, his warm breath caressing the side of the Cardassian’s face. “There’s an empty couch no less than thirty seconds away in the basement.”

“Really?” breathed Garak, his senses slowly fuzzing and swimming as the rest of the world started to shut out and only the warmth and proximity of Julian remained.

“Mhm,”confirmed Julian. “But it would be terribly crass, you know, to sneak off during a party and get… _inappropriate_ in a basement, wouldn’t you agree?”

Was Garak truly the kind of man who could be reduced to lewd behavior on a stranger’s basement couch by a clumsy, mischievous, sauce-stained, hormonal med student?

The hand moved slightly up and toyed with the zipper of his pants and Garak realized that yes, he was that kind of man.

 

**Author's Note:**

> My first foray into the DD9 (and actually DS9 as well) fandom! Many thanks to Lady Yate-xel for making DD9. It’s a delightful little universe to write in, and I am merely borrowing her (fantastic) versions of the characters to play with. 
> 
> The setting for this was directly inspired by some of the most college-boy houses I’ve ever lived in. Playboy centerfolds on the walls, crappy broken lawn furniture, LAN parties… and the basement couch. 
> 
> I want to write more DD9 so I purposefully left a loose end in this story, as it works with another plot bunny.


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